


Alcedonia

by myashke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts, M/M, Post War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-04
Updated: 2006-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myashke/pseuds/myashke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds the peace he's been searching for after the war ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alcedonia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marcasita](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=marcasita).



The summer after the war, McGonagall insisted that those without a home to return to take up residence at the castle. Harry suspected she had ulterior motives when she began assigning tasks to those who'd accepted.

He really felt he had no other option, for the Weasleys were in mourning and he couldn't begin to think of intruding. So Harry spent his days digging in the soil, levitating fallen stones back to the tops of the ramparts, repairing wounds in thousands-year old mortar, and cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.

The castle was beginning, bit by bit, to look like his old school again. The biggest change was that Hogwarts now lacked the once-prevalent four house distinctions, those having been all but destroyed when the war had called on them to unite and stand together.

The lake looked particularly inviting one August afternoon that found his wand arm aching and his head pounding with the backlash after removing malignant spells. Clearing the Quidditch Pitch of trap spells had been trying to say the least, and the water sparkled its siren song in the dying light of the sun.

The residual dark magic left an odd smell in the air that reminded him of the potions lab. It stuck in his nose and tickled his gag reflex. He coughed to clear it, despite knowing well enough by now that it would do no good. Only a good long shower would peel the clinging stench from his body, and butterbeer would wash it from his throat.

Both were scarce in post-war Hogwarts. He'd be lucky to get a cold shower, let alone real ice instead of a cooling spell in his pumpkin juice at dinner, which he was already likely too late for.

The lake was as refreshing as any prefect's bath, and less confining to boot. Tossing his protective robes onto the bottom row of stands, Harry strode down the hill and through a small stand of birch trees, hoping that anyone not in the Great Hall for dinner wouldn't spy him. He smiled at the prospect of McGonagall finding him as he took his glasses, clothes and shoes off at the water's edge and stepped onto a long flat rock that led him far out into the lake. He jumped off the end and sliced cleanly into blessedly cool, silent peace.

He opened his eyes under the water, wondering that it looked so different to when he'd been hunting for Ron. No hinkypunks or mermen, he supposed, but there was a distinct lack of eeriness, as though the lake had thrown off its murky green and become a clear blue haven of icy softness, just for today, just for him.

The water flowed between his fingers and toes and Harry flexed them, stretching overworked muscles and spreading his legs in a frog kick. The cool invaded everywhere and he closed his eyes, rose to the surface for a great gulp of air before languidly falling under again. He swam hard for a few meters, then floated on his back, staring at the cloudless sky. When a bird's shrill cry made him think of Buckbeak and Sirius, he went under again, losing himself in the silence that came from having his ears submerged.

But even beneath the water, he heard the splash, a liquid thunk. Bubbles hissed so close by that Harry felt them tickle up along his body, clinging to his arms and eyelashes. He paddled his arms and twisted around to see who - or what - had joined him.

Malfoy.

After betraying the Dark Lord, Draco had become a hot commodity. Every Ministry official and every Death Eater, including Draco's own parents, wanted him under lock and key, posthaste. The Headmistress of Hogwarts hadn't allowed it, much to Harry's chagrin. Dumbledore had always seemed to have the ability to switch instantly from enemy to friend to authority figure, and McGonagall now exhibited that trait as well. Perhaps she'd inherited it with the title.

Having no home, for in the end even Snape wouldn't have him, Malfoy had taken a room in the dungeons.

All summer he'd been quiet - no, not quiet. Silent. So completely passive and non-communicative that Harry wondered whether he hadn't been cursed with some anti-verbal spell during the last battle. He'd worked beside Malfoy on a few occasions and found the lack of biting remarks both disturbing and annoying. He'd much rather have been insulted or hexed than stared at.

Now it was his turn to stare, rising to the surface when Draco did. He dog-paddled in place, careful not to let his limbs collide with Malfoy's under the water.

"Feels good, huh?" He sounded like an idiot, but couldn't think of anything else with Malfoy a foot away and breathing like he hadn't realized the lake would be full of water.

Malfoy smirked and nodded, wiping at his face. When he disappeared dolphin-like under the surface, the slick, white curve of Malfoy's ass peeked out of the water for a split second before Harry could jerk his eyes away and he realized he wasn't the only one bare beneath the surface.

Harry instinctively made for the rock, swimming above-water to avoid seeing any - uh - more of Malfoy. He heard movement behind him the whole way, which only made him move faster. At the flat outcropping of stone, he paused. How to climb out without embarrassment? There was no way - nothing he could do but ignore the eyes that might be staring and just move.

Just as he hoisted himself up and got a hip onto the rock, he felt a hand on his ankle. "Potter!"

The name sounded so much his own, so much how he remembered it sounding on Draco's lips back when they'd been sworn enemies. He righted himself quickly and folded his hands in his lap as Draco pulled himself through the water.

He looked calmer than Harry had ever seen him, his face so relaxed and soft.

"Why are you following me, Malfoy?"

Draco's tightly-closed lips sank into the water, then rose again and opened with, "I'll leave if you want me to."

"No." Harry was cooled off, refreshed enough, he supposed. A breeze wafted by and blew chill-bumps onto his arms and up his legs. "I'm through."

Harry moved to the side in surprise as Draco levered himself out of the water to sit beside Harry, his legs dangling in the lake, hands propped behind him. "Where's your wand?"

Harry nodded towards the shore and felt the heat rising on his cheeks. He knew better than to be so far from his wand, or at least he should know by now.

Malfoy scooted fully onto the stone and lay back, tucking his arms beneath his head, completely unabashed and apparently wandless himself. "S'okay, there's a good half-hour of sun left."

Harry sat glued to the rock, unable to bring himself to stand and step over Malfoy or to lie back and warm himself dry in the sun that Malfoy was soaking up. He stared at the sky until his eyes burned - the sun's long rays were still so bright. He wondered how long Malfoy would lie there, barring his way, and had almost worked up the courage to leave when he heard the unmistakable sounds of deep sleep-breathing. He couldn't believe Malfoy had fallen asleep! He made to push himself up and go, but Malfoy's foot brushed his leg, and he froze.

Only then did he look at Malfoy. Really look.

The breeze was picking up, making low waves on the lake and weaving through the damp tendrils of Malfoy's hair. He looked so peaceful this way, so purely untarnished and even... innocent.

A long, thin pink scar and the faded gray remnants of a Dark Mark marred the purity, and Harry wished he could wipe them from Malfoy's chest and arm.

Harry drew his legs around and leaned on one hand, his back to the warm sun. He swallowed hard and reached out to touch, wondering if the mark would feel differently from his own scar.

It was smooth and pore-less, just as his own, a clean wound healed so poorly that Draco would always, always have it with him. He wondered if the man had even bothered to see a healer, or if he'd let it heal on its own.

He closed his eyes and lifted his fingers to trace his lightning bolt, his curse and saving grace. Despise it or not, it would never leave him, not even in death, he supposed.

Cool fingers closed over his wrist and he started, opening his eyes to see Draco pushing up on one elbow, looking at him with such understanding that Harry wondered if he was misreading the expression.

Harry turned abruptly away, though Draco's fingers stayed firm on his wrist, and Harry let them.

"My father gave me that one."

Harry looked back over his shoulder at Draco, disbelieving what he was hearing. "Why did you keep it?"

Draco smirked and rubbed his thumb along the tendons in Harry's wrist, sending shivers all the way up his spine. "I suppose I needed it."

After so many years of wearing his own mark, Harry couldn't actually imagine life without it. He'd wished countless times that it would disappear, but when it came down to it, he'd be completely unrecognizable, even to himself, without it. He nodded and turned to look out across the lake.

"It's alright, you know." Harry heard the shift of bare skin against the rock and felt the warmth of Malfoy's skin along his back. "You can touch it. I don't mind."

"Maybe _I_ do." Harry squirmed forward, his feet nearly over the edge of the stone, still, after all they'd been through, unwilling to concede defeat where Malfoy was concerned.

An arm wrapped around his own, the hand on his chest catching his breath. Malfoy was touching him, pressing a palm flat over Harry's heart, urging him back against a chest as smooth as the surface of the lake. He leaned against the pressing hand but it didn't give.

He could feel the ache inside and out - that hand on his chest asking him for something he didn't even know how to give. He'd never, _never_ given that before, not really.

He started to speak and choked out, "I can't," but when Malfoy started to pull him back, he let it happen. Malfoy surrounded his body with warmth, legs spread on either side of him, feet touching the sides of his knees, arms encasing him in a firm hug.

He heard Malfoy swallow hard, felt the rise and fall of his chest when he breathed out, "You don't have to do anything."

Harry bit his lip, his body so tense it shook. He was humiliated, shivering naked in Malfoy's arms, conceding to Merlin knew what at the slightest urging.

"Just... just don't-" Leave. Laugh at me. Stop.

The arms squeezed tighter around him and Malfoy's hair touched his shoulder like fingers trailing along the skin there. He shivered again, cursing under his breath, and Malfoy whispered into his ear, "Shhh... I won't."

Harry closed his eyes tight against the last warmth of the orange sun sinking below the horizon line, setting the water on fire. He let himself feel every inch of Malfoy against him, the toes touching his knees, the lips below his jaw, the gentle prod of arousal against his lower back.

Panic set in every few seconds, but Malfoy stroked it away with expert fingertips ghosting over his chest, his arms, his stomach. When they stroked lower, down his thighs and over his cock, Harry's heavy head fell back onto Malfoy's shoulder, which earned him a groan and a fist that closed firmly around him.

Without meaning to, he arched back and up with a cry, his cock sliding beautifully into the sheath of Draco's fingers, which instantly began a maddening rhythm. Unaccustomed to another's hand on his cock, Harry reached down and closed his hand over Draco's. He hoped it wasn't wrong, that Malfoy wouldn't make fun of him later.

He ground his ass down into the stone, desperate not to move or make a sound, and Draco's voice fell into his ear once again.

"That's it, show me."

Their fingers fell naturally together, Harry's interlacing with Draco's and moving hesitantly.

"Look at us." It was so low and uncertain. He'd never heard Draco sound like that, like he was asking for something he needed.

Harry opened his eyes, _saw_ that hand there under his and lost the battle for silence. He groaned and shifted his hips, guiding Draco's fingers over the slit, shuddering as the silver band on Draco's thumb slid under his foreskin. The cool metal felt like an ice cube against his heated cock.

Harry turned his cheek into Draco's, their hot skin burning together, half desperate for that urging in his ear again and half wishing Malfoy wouldn't talk at all.

He felt lips against his throat and barely recognized the voice that came out of him. "I don't- is this-"

"It's all right. I'm..." Draco's breath ghosted over the shell of his ear, "You're safe with me."

Harry's fingers went still at the words, then slackened between Malfoy's and fell away, letting the other man take control. He squeezed his eyes closed and spread his hands wide on the rock beneath him for balance.

"You're lovely like this - spread out for me, so warm and hard and-" That pointed nose burrowed in under his ear, " _Gods_ , you smell good."

Harry writhed and spread his legs apart, sliding his feet on the smooth, dry stone, pushing Draco's legs open wider and shifting further back into the place between them.

The hand on his cock sped up, the whisper of palm against sliding skin making him crazy and the friction, Merlin, the friction was heating him from the outside in, making him arch up into it with every stroke. The creases of his thighs ached, and he found himself unable to keep his eyes screwed shut any longer.

He turned his face into Draco's and opened his eyes, instantly trapped by the clear grey that stared back. Draco's lips were swollen and wet and Harry imagined it was from Draco's licking and biting them. He closed his mouth over them, pushed them open with his tongue and was addicted at first taste.

He kissed hard and fast, unsure if he was crossing some line, and his heart nearly jumped out of his throat when Draco lifted a hand to his chin and pushed him away gently, catching his eyes again, shaking his head very slightly.

Before he could turn away, Draco kissed him again, completely differently this time, slowly and softly but with so much control that he had no choice but to follow Draco's lead. Harry fought down the urge to resist it, stamped out his need for the tingle of pain on his lips to justify the kiss. Draco's way was good. Better, even. Like swimming through clear water, tongues teasing instead of battling.

He moaned his approval and lifted a hand to touch Malfoy's face. His own tongue moved with Draco's inside the man's mouth and he gave in to beauty, pressing himself harder against the warm skin at his back to feel more of it, slipping his fingers into still-damp hair.

Through the haze of sensation, Harry felt Draco's feet pressing hard against his legs, felt the insistent cock rubbing up and down along his cleft and lower back, the press and release of Draco's skin rocking against his own. He answered every touch with more than equal force, just as hungry as Malfoy obviously was for the feeling of someone else against him.

When he closed a hand on a pale thigh, Draco's arm tightened around his chest until Harry could barely breathe. Harry released their kiss to catch his breath and Draco's head moved away, pushing heavily between his shoulder-blades. The man was groaning as he rubbed urgently against Harry, his hand syncopated to the thrusting against Harry's lower back. Helpless, he could only shift his hips back against Draco's inexorable rubbing, hoping he didn't seem too wanton.

He fancied he could feel that scar, Draco's scar, a cool slice of pink rubbing along his spine, they were so tightly pressed together. "I can feel it- you-" Harry felt his face burn and bit his lip against the words.

"Merlin, Harry." The hand on his cock faltered and Harry pushed back as hard as he could against Draco's cock as it pulsed wetly against him. The sounds liquefied behind him, Draco's mouth sucking on his spine, spent cock sliding up and down like Draco couldn't stop grinding against him, even now.

Harry gulped for air, feeling uncertain and unhinged by Draco's release, ready and on the edge of his own but amazed, completely overwhelmed by the slickness on the small of his back. When Draco jerked his head up to gasp, Harry reached back and fisted Draco's hair, dragging his head back down into their kiss. Desperate and hard now, teeth clacking, it felt like Draco was trying to crawl inside him, and Harry knew If Draco had asked for that, he'd have let him, embarrassment be damned.

Draco's hand disappeared from around his cock and Harry whimpered in spite of his pride, shaking his head as their kiss slowed and hearing Draco's muffled laugh against his lips.

The errant fist returned, so slick Harry thought he would slide right out of it, and Draco pumped him more purposefully, the pressure of Draco's thumb harder now as it swiped over the head of his cock, the fingers closed tighter around him.

Draco's hand fell into a cadence with his tongue and Harry was at once caught in the compulsory rhythm of it, the stroking of mouth and fist, the weight of the arm wrapped around his chest, the fingers that found his nipple and rolled it gently. He was surrounded by Draco, by Malfoy, above and below and in front and behind him, on him and in his mouth, around his cock, against his back and neck. Slick, warm, tight, soft, _Malfoy_ , making him moan into the mouth on his, making him taut with need, making him rock and rock into the ring of long fingers, making him arch back against muscles that tensed to support them both, strong, strong muscles that flexed around his chest and against his shoulders. He felt himself leaning into the lips that dragged along his jaw to his ear and whispered to him in a rough, Slytherin-silk voice, "That's it, Harry, come for me."

The heat of that breath and the slide of Draco's voice in his ear, the slick, tight glove of fingers around his cock, everything, Merlin, everything, every place they touched, tingled and Harry cried out as he came and came, slipping through that tight, tight fist until he was spent, shivering as Draco gently rubbed up and down his cock.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, Harry covered Draco's hand with his own and shook his head.

Draco smiled down at him and moved his hand to lie heavily low on Harry's belly, where Harry found the touch oddly comforting. He leaned easily back against Draco's chest and lifted his chin to take Draco's mouth again.

When the sun was completely beyond the skyline, they slipped back into the water and rinsed, as silently as it had all begun.

After all that had happened between them, after this long journey from old rival to new lover, Harry supposed they were beyond words.

~finis~


End file.
